


Blame the stress

by Zaneey



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, dumbass gays in love is a pretty good summary I'd say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 04:18:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14252880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaneey/pseuds/Zaneey
Summary: Crowley has a new habit: eating his finger nails. It annoys Azirapale and he decides to dig that. Somehow it does bad but also a lot of good.





	Blame the stress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sous_le_saule](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sous_le_saule/gifts).



> I give this work to Sous_le_saule because she helped me a lot with this work and took the time to correct aaaall of my misrakes! Thank you <3

It was a calm afternoon at Aziraphale's bookshop. He and Crowley went to the Ritz for lunch, then they came back here and didn't move since. Aziraphale was reading and Crowley... Well, Crowley was doing pretty much nothing. But... 

''Dear, could you stop?'' asked the angel without looking up from his book. 

Crowley, curled into a ball on the bookshop's sofa, turned his head to look at Aziraphale. 

''Stop what?'' The demon almost looked surprised. 

Aziraphale lifted his head from his book and glared at Crowley. 

''This... thing you do, eating your fingernails,'' he said. ''You do it quite a lot actually,'' he added hesitantly.

Crowley changed his position and sat up on the couch but placed his hands under his tights as if he wanted to hide them. He glanced at his friend, hesitated an instant as if he was weighing the pros and cons and responded with a cold tone, rather quickly, though, as if he was embarrassed.

''Yeah, it's um, stress.''

Aziraphale had already guessed, but he didn’t think the demon would tell him straight away. He still had the good sense to look surprised.

''Stress?''  
''Yeah.''  
''What is stressing you out?''  
''Everything?''  
''How can everything stress you out, Crowley?''

Crowley attacked his thumb with his teeth and spat out a nail. 

''Living is stressing me out.”

No wonder why he liked sleeping so much. It was a good way to avoid feelings.

Aziraphale nodded. He got it. Closing his book softly, he stood from his armchair and gestured at Crowley for him to move. The angel then sat down near him and opened one arm, saying nothing and looking at the demon very silently and solemnly. 

''Why do you-ugh, Az, I don't need a hug, what the-''  
''Come here, Crowley.''

The demon hesitated an instant, furrowed his brows, then went near his friend. 

''If you ever tell anybody...'' warned Crowley while he was leaning against him.   
''Why would I ? To whom ?''

The demon could feel the mocking tone in the angel's voice but said nothing. He took his sunglasses off before curling himself under Aziraphale's arm which wrapped around his waist, folded his own on his chest and finally closed his eyes. 

He listened to the angel's breath. They didn't really need to breath, but they both took the habit as a commodity. And Crowley liked to breathe. Not because of the act in itself, but because he could smell what was around him this way (he also could smell better when using his nose rather than his tongue in a human body). And he liked some smells. He didn't really know about Aziraphale, though he was certain of one thing: his angel loved smelling old books and freshly opened bottles of wine. As for himself, he liked the smell of wine too, but also other kinds of alcohol, the smell of Aziraphale, the smell of food, the smell of the Bentley's leather seats, the smell of Aziraphale, the smell of rain, the smell of gasoline and mostly, the smell of Aziraphale. 

He liked the smell of his angel way too much for his own sake but, if he was being honest with himself (just for once), he would also never admit it. 

''So, do you want to talk about it?''

Crowley opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at Aziraphale. 

''About the fact that everything was acceptable, even fine, until you opened that mouth of yours to break it? No thanks.''  
''Crowley don't be like that...'' sighed the angel without reacting to the ''even fine''. 

Crowley didn't bother to answer and stayed still, staring at the void. He didn't need a hug because hugs were about bringing warmness and cheering up someone but still... Aziraphale's hug was… appreciated. The angel was absentmindedly rubbing his thumb on his waist. Just a tiny, soft touch and Crowley decided he liked that. 

.

Eventually, Crowley started eating his nails days after days again to get another hug. Not that he'd ever tell Az about it, but the last one didn't last long enough according to his standards. Not that he had standards anyway, he didn't need hugs. 

Aziraphale tsked, which made the demon look at him.

''Really, dear, stop this.''  
''Oh for duck's sake, why? If I wanna eat my nails, that's my problem, angel.'' 

The said angel paused his reading to look at his demon with an indescribable gaze. 

''What?'' asked Crowley, raising an eyebrow. 

Aziraphale kept glaring at him, and the demon started to wonder. He could almost feel the angel thinking. Icy blue eyes staring at him through which Crowley could see no warmness nor coldness. It was awkward. He had been playing this game for days now, maybe Az was getting tired of it.

''Because it's not good for you, Crowley.''

Aziraphale omitted that it was seriously starting to piss him off and that he didn’t understand how Crowley could willingly damage his nails when he tried so hard to look cool.

''Duh, you come here to tell me about health... I'm a demon, Az. Okay, I may be stressed but there's nothing unhealthy I can't fix with a snap of my fingers.''

Aziraphale didn't answer. Crowley wondered why he didn't hug him but supposed his friend was done with him. He stood up from the sofa, arranged his suit and waved at the angel. 

''So I'm gonna go. I have… things to take care of.''  
“Okay. See you around?''  
''Maybe,'' answered the demon, passing the entrance door. He paused to add with a grin that looked more like a frown: ''If you still want to see me.'' then left. 

Aziraphale felt kind of puzzled. Crowley seemed to have another existential crisis or something like that. He didn't have any in years so this one was unexpected (well, quite unexpected as the Notpocalypse was still fairly recent) but Aziraphale had tried to comfort him. Hugs were, in his opinion, the best way. He liked hugging Crowley, having this thin body in his arms, his breathing almost non-existant against his skin, the weight of his body against him, his waist under his arm... Aziraphale really liked it, but he’d soon noticed that it didn't seem to calm Crowley. He’d felt like the demon was… tense, even nervous, in his arms. He knew Crowley liked it, or at least he’d told him implicitly that he liked it, but the doubt persisted.

So he stopped. He couldn't really read Crowley's mind, even after all those centuries, millennia spent together, hating each other, fighting until one of them discorporated the other, arguing violently about Good and Evil or Inefability, laughing and sharing lunches... This was a little shame for him he'd probably never tell the demon. 

This afternoon, he hadn't known how to react. He was almost certain Crowley was eating his nails to piss him off but for what purpose? What did he want from him? Aziraphale's theory was that even the demon didn't really know. It had happened a few times since they knew each other, Crowley was doing something simply to piss him off. Which rarely worked. 

The eating-his-nails thing didn’t entirely fall into that category, that he knew it. He was pretty sure Crowley was aiming to obtain something from him at the same time, although they both seemed to be unaware of what it was. Aziraphale knew the demon was eating his nails because of stress, his friend told him enough, and he knew Crowley was a very stressed demon, worrying so much about anything and everything that it was almost cute. 

.

Crowley was lying on his living room's floor, hands holding each other on his belly, staring at the ceiling. 

Too many things in his head. He had to process. 

After the Notpocalypse, everything had seemed fine, back to normal, back at the place where it belonged. And that had reassured Crowley. The huge, giant mess that had been the Notmageddon had left him entirely wiped out, and the past weeks had let him manage to get his normality back. 

But obviously, the anxiety had kicked in. What if Hastur and Ligur had been brought back to life and were searching revenge? What if his superiors, aware of his role in the failed apocalypse, asked him to get his skinny ass back in Hell? What if, after that, they grounded him? 

Crowley brought his hand to his mouth and started to methodically ravage his thumb, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Adam had assured him everything was safe and eventually, Crowley had believed him. But still, he couldn't help but worry so much it was literally paralyzing. He knew that it wasn't rational, that Aziraphale telling him that everything was over now was the voice of reason but Crowley. Couldn't. Stop. 

The most worrying thing about all that? He didn't even want to drink. 

He felt like if he drank, his anxiety would've won over him and Crowley couldn’t allow that to happen. He felt like that if he drank, that would've meant his anxiety would've been so strong he couldn't cope with it anymore, therefore he would've drunk to drown it out and subsequently, that'd mean he was weaker than his anxiety. And he could take care of his shit on his own for Go- for Sat- for someone's sake! 

The thing was, when Crowley wasn't drinking, he was thinking. Too much, right now, actually. The massive headache pounding behind his forehead had made itself comfortable a few days ago. Nothing had managed to get it to leave. 

The demon let out a loud moan of despair, rubbing his eyes. He then dropped his arms splayed on the floor, sighing. 

Nothing. He wanted nothing. The other times this had happened, there was always something he had desired that had helped him to get out of this dark pit. Today? He couldn't find anything. Well, he could still get up and go out to see Aziraphale but, boy, the angel seemed so done with him, it would just create some huge awkwardness. 

So instead of getting up, Crowley just curled up into a ball silently, closed his eyes and tried to calm the feeling that was growing in his chest. Like an abuzz nest, it took its roots in the demon's heart and started to expand in his whole body, contaminating his lungs, his guts, making his throat clamp and his fists clench before his face, as if he wanted to hide from the outside world and not exist anymore. The sounds of the street below became unbearable. Dogs, cars, people talking, footsteps on the pavement, birds, dogs, cars people talking, footsteps on the pavement, birds, dogs... 

Crowley let out a muffled moan and realized his breath had become heavy and quick, like almost panicked. He couldn't control anything, it was like a freaking train wreck. The demon grabbed and pulled his hair, covered his ears and his face with erratic moves. 

"Crowley???"

.

When Crowley had left, Aziraphale looked at him leave and felt weird deep inside. He didn't pay much attention to that feeling, he was used to feel things he'd never thought he'd feel with the demon, and made himself a cup of tea before going back to his reading. But after a moment, the weird feeling grew bigger in his chest and he stood up. 

Something was really wrong with Crowley. If, at first, Aziraphale thought it was a minor breakdown in which the demon wouldn’t want him to stick his nose, now he could tell he’d had it all wrong. He didn't know how but he could feel it. Even as far as they were from each other, Aziraphale could feel Crowley's distress and anguish. 

Without thinking, the angel put his coat on, exited his bookshop, closed it and started running. His human heart was aching, he assumed it was because this body wasn't used to that exercise. But his ethereal being, was aching too, and Aziraphale had no explanation for that. 

When he arrived at Crowley's flat, he rang the doorbell, knocked, banged on the door and got no reply. His mind was in a hurry, he couldn't stop and think. 

He finally did what he promised himself he wouldn't do since the Arrangement. Break into Crowley's place. In which he found him curled into a ball, moaning and whimpering softly. 

"Crowley???"

He ran to the demon who started to shake his head. Aziraphale could hear the heavy breath of his friend in addition to his pain and panic deep inside. Crowley's feelings were so confused that he didn't even know what to do with all of that. It was overwhelming. Crowley was overwhelming them both. 

"Dear! Crowley, you need to calm down!" yelped the angel, kneeling by his friend and grabbing his shoulders to turn him over. 

The demon's yellow eyes crossed the blue of Aziraphale's. He mouthed something and his arm clutched his friend's. 

"Crowley, I'm here now, it's okay."

Aziraphale tried to sound calm but he wasn't really succeeding. The demon was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Eventually he managed to whisper:

"I-I can't... I-I don't...''  
''Hey it’s safe now, Crowley, nothing is here to threaten you. I't's just me and you, you're in your flat, it's the beginning of the evening, everything’s fine, Crowley," gushed Aziraphale. 

He couldn't figure out how to calm his friend down, he'd never seen him that panicked, in this state ever before. He didn't know if that was the first time this happened to Crowley, but he felt like it wasn’t.

"I can't... I can't… ssssstop I don't-"

Crowley swallowed and coughed, breathing too fast. 

''I don't... I d-don't know h-how I-I jusssst...''  
''It's alright, take your time, dear. Steady your breath for a start, there's nothing to fear, I'm here."

Aziraphale felt his friend trying to settle down, so he palmed his cheeks, gently rubbing his thumb on his sharp cheekbones. Crowley grabbed his friend's coat, clenching his fists on the fabric, and closed his eyes. 

''It's okay now, shhh...''

Aziraphale held him tight against his chest, whispering some comforting words. The feeling of sinking into the demon's distress was getting weaker and weaker, he could sense himself getting calmer along with Crowley. 

Slowly, the demon's breath steadied, his grip on the angel's coat softened, and Aziraphale moved an inch away from him. Crowley reluctantly opened his eyes to look at the angel above him. He didn't speak, for his friend was rubbing his cheekbones again with his thumbs gently, calmly, lovingly. 

His breath still a bit short, the demon didn't move. He noticed that his head was resting on Aziraphale's thighs now but said nothing. The angel looked at him worriedly. 

''Do you feel better now?''  
''...yeah... Yeah I think ssso..."

Crowley's voice was still hesitant, but feeling the softness of Aziraphale's true concern helped to finally get rid of the tacky feeling inside of him. 

''Good,'' said the angel, nodding awkwardly. ''Good.'' 

They both didn't move until Crowley wrapped his arms around his friend's waist, raised a bit and gave him a weird hug. He whispered. 

''Thank you, angel.''  
''Anytime,'' answered Aziraphale with a sweet smile. 

Crowley prolonged the hug for an indeterminate amount of time, and the angel didn't complain. He was genuinely happy to see his Crowley back. 

After a moment, the demon sat cross-legged then looked at his friend. 

"How did you know?"

Aziraphale hesitated. He knew how, he understood it when his eyes crossed the demon's. He tried to summon the right words in his head, but it was just a very disorganized mumble-jumble of thoughts and the answer came out a bit quickly. 

"I think we're bound.''  
''I beg your pardon?" choked Crowley, narrowing his eyes.

''We're… linked. That's how I felt something was wrong... Off.''

Crowley seemed to measure the weight of the words Aziraphale had just said. 

''Like… connected, you mean?''  
''That would be a synonym, yes...''

The demon thought for a moment then asked the real question. 

"But how? I mean, first of all, since when, because I didn't notice it, and second of all, why? Because I don't see why such a bond would exist between us.''  
''Well, I think you didn't feel it so far because you're not, ah, you know...''  
''Yeah, I'm not shaped to feel it anymore, I know that's why I still don't sense this bond,'' replied Crowley wryly. 

Aziraphale bit his lip and patted his friend on the back. 

''That's not what I mean exactly, dear.''   
''Then what? That's true. You're better than me at feeling things,'' admitted the demon as he raised his eyebrows, but the angel could see he wasn’t telling him everything.  
''...I wouldn't be so sure...'' he muttered, apparently lost in his thoughts. 

Aziraphale decided to leave it for the moment. The subject would come again because if he knew anything about his friend, it was that Crowley was always bringing back a subject. 

''Now, why? Why does it need to exist? I don't get it."

Crowley furrowed his eyebrows, rubbing his forefinger against his lips. Meanwhile, Aziraphale's eyebrows raised so high they disappeared behind his short blonde fringe. 

''Of course...'' he whispered.   
''What? What now? Tell me!''  
''It's so obvious now that I think about it,'' he kept talking in a low voice, eyes staring into the distance.   
''What is obvious, angel?''  
''It was right under my nose, how could I have been so blind...?" wondered the angel, rubbing his chin.   
"Aaaaaaangeeeel!!'' Crowley grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook. ''Tell me what this brain of yours just realized or I'll send you to… to… somewhere not nice,'' he concluded, pouting.   
''Crowley. Don't you see it? It's about love!''  
''Whua-? No you know what ? Nevermind. You are tired you need sleep yes I know angels don't sleep and Good is always vigilant but I really think you should take a loooong sleepy night.''  
''But, dear, open your eyes. Look at us. Don't you understand?"

Crowley stood up and forced his friend to do the same. He knew where Aziraphale was heading, and feelings were a path he wanted to think about before expressing them out loud to his angel. Aziraphale was still rambling excitedly while the demon was pushing him to exit his flat, feeling uncomfortable. 

''Lisssten, Sss-ssweetie,” Crowley shook his head, overtaken by the events. “I uh, I don't wanna do this right now... Okay? I just, I need to sleep and also to think,'' explained Crowley, feeling his face becoming slightly red.   
''Oh... Right. I guess, ah, later then? You, you sure you feel okay now, dear?" asked Aziraphale.   
"I do feel okay now... I have something to keep my mind busy.'' The demon smiled awkwardly but there was a hint of sweetness on his face.   
''Which is?"

Crowley felt a sweet sensation inside of his chest and his smile became brighter as his face reddened more. 

''You, you dummy.''

Aziraphale gave him an incredulous smile and the demon shut the door. He then leaned against it and let himself slide onto the floor. He placed his cold hands on his cheeks, in order to cool off. 

''We'll sort this out together, won't we? We'll get answers...'' pierced the angel’s voice through the door.  
''I hope so. I can already see that if you don't get your answers, you're gonna drive me nuts.''  
''See you tomorrow then, my dear?'' His friend laughed, the sound a bit loosened.   
''Maybe," replied Crowley. ''But if you want an answer, you'll have to come to me.''  
''I promise I will, Crowley.''

The demon let his head rest against the door with a soft thud, keeping the sweet smile stuck on his lips. He closed his eyes, listened to Aziraphale's footsteps getting farther away. 

Maybe he would sort things out tonight, maybe not. That could wait a day, after all, they had plenty of time, like, the infinity, and not an Apocalypse being on the lookout for them. 

Aziraphale had made him realize how much he cared about his angel, just by helping him. Crowley needed to think about that bond too. A bond between two such opposed creatures wasn't a mistake of fate. He could almost speak about... Ineffability.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first Good Omens fanfiction! I corrected it a hundred of times..... But I'm pretty happy with the result! Tell me what are your thoughts! :)


End file.
